Tell me Something I don’t Know
Don’t tell me the earth’s a sphere
and the sun’s kiss amounts to half-day
terminal bliss with a dark end,
or that seasons have to do with angles,
mystics have to do with angels,
and lovers are about orbiting passions,
that pulse like binary stars across
light years and come in telescopes
Don’t tell me the wind’s a metaphor
for a longing to fill vacuums that
sometimes spit typhoons
or that cardinals seen
in the high reaches of cherry trees
are no more sublime than worms
who burrow among turnip roots
for a living
Don’t tell me the chance of being
is equal to the odds of not being
——tell me something I don’t know
Tell me how to weave
tomorrow into yesterday
without tangling, without
strangling today
Jim Culleny
from Odder Still
Lena’s Basement Press, 2015
Enjoying the content on 3QD? Help keep us going by donating now.